You must be losing your touch, Donavan.
Shit, when they walk away, it’s supposed to be a good thing. Lessens the chance of complications. I don’t chase. It’s not my thing—never has been, never will be. There are too many willing women; why bother wasting my time on the ones that make things difficult? Why work for it when life’s complicated enough as it is? I fuck whom I want, when I want. My pick. On my terms. To my benefit. Rules two through six.
But shit … that … her … how can I just let her—Fuck me!
Nobody walks away until I say I’m done. And I have every intention of finishing what I started with her. Checkered flag’s mine. I’ll definitely be crossing that finish line.
Here’s to a night of firsts.
First a brunette.
Next a pursuit.
Bring it on.
Wave that checkered flag, sweetie, because I’m gonna claim it.
As the reader, we assumed Colton had something to do with the rigging of the date auction. This assumption is one I will never divulge the truth to because I think it’s important for each person to create their own scenario. Regardless, we know that Rylee’s been auctioned off and she’s not too happy about it. She’s flustered, not thinking clearly, and just wants to go home.
As always though, her boys are front and center in her mind and that means she has to find the arrogant yet achingly handsome Donavan to collect her winnings from the bet. Little does she know the chain of events this meeting will trigger.
I enjoyed writing this scene. I knew Colton was arrogant, but what were his thoughts behind his comments? What happened after he walked away that night and went home? How did the wavy-haired, defiant-as-fuck woman affect him?
Fuck my rules.
Addictive.
Fuck her defiance.
She’s mine.
She just doesn’t know it yet.
My eyes collide with hers as she steps out of the backstage door. The sneer on her face and fire in her eyes tells me she knows.
But that’s not possible.
She couldn’t have figured it out yet. But I’ll be damned if she’s not pissed off by the way she’s stalking those sexy-as-fuck curves toward me right now. I can’t help my eyes as they drag over every inch of her body, wanting more than just the taste I got earlier. I want the whole fucking meal.
And I want it now.
Patience is definitely not my virtue.
And I’m sure as fuck going to steal hers.
I can’t help the smile that threatens the corners of my lips as I push myself off of the wall when she nears. A freight train of anger and she doesn’t even have a clue that I’m her fucking fuel.
What I wouldn’t give to push her up against the wall and taste her again—crowd around us be damned—so long as I get my fix. She reaches up and holds her hand to stop me before I speak. Fuck! The woman does everything to try and turn me off, and all it does is spur me further the opposite way, arousing me like she wouldn’t fucking believe.
“Look, Ace, I’m tired and in a really shitty mood right now. It’s time for me to call it a night—”
“And just when I was going to offer to take you to places you didn’t even know existed before.” I can’t help pushing her buttons. The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. But fuck if it’s not true. I have no doubt we’d set the sheets—if not the fucking bed or floor or couch or wherever we crash—on fire. Those luscious lips of hers fall lax at my comment, and I figure I’ll keep her on her toes. Keep pushing those buttons. It’s just too much goddamn fun. “You don’t know what you’re missing, sweetheart.”
She snorts. She actually snorts at me standing here in her elegant dress, and fuck me if that too isn’t a mix of sexy and adorable. “I’m wounded,” I say, clutching my heart in mock pain. “You’d be surprised what my mouth gets with those lines.”
Let’s see what she says to that one. My eyes trace over the outline of those lips that I want wrapped around my cock, those fucking magnificent eyes looking at me with a trace of shock. Even after all of our interactions tonight, she still doesn’t know how to take me.
Good. Keep her guessing. Confusion is my advantage.
“I don’t have time for your childish games right now. I just had to endure humiliation beyond my worst nightmare, and I’m more pissed off than you can imagine. I especially don’t want to deal with you right now.”
“I do love a woman who tells it like it is,” I murmur to myself, unable to tear my eyes from hers. Or comprehend being told no. That’s a new one.
“So I’m going home in about ten minutes. Night’s over. I win our idiotic bet, so you better get your check and fill it out because you’re going home with lighter pockets tonight,” she rants and places her hands on her hips.
Fuck, there’s that defiance again that makes my balls tighten in anticipation. In unfettered lust. And she thinks I’m just going to write her a check and let her walk out of my life without having her? She’s sadly mistaken. I’m a take it or leave it kind of guy.
And I’m definitely taking this one. Too bad she doesn’t know it yet.
I don’t fight my smirk this time. Game on, baby. “Twenty-five thousand lighter, in fact.”
“No, we agreed on twen—” Her voice fades and I watch as it slowly hits her. The realization crashes like a tornado across her features and storms through her eyes. I can see her trying to fight it. Trying to resist the urge to throttle me.
And shit, if I thought defiance made her sexy, then anger makes her motherfucking breathtaking.